Everytime
by neshy
Summary: Life after Hogwarts was anything but kind to the Golden Trio. In the words of Ronald Weasley, "Hogwarts was like a run through the effing daisies compared to this." Post-DH, AU, mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: So, I've been working on this story on and off again for over a year, but I've finally had enough and am hoping that finally posting it will give me the motivation to do it some good. I have big plans for this one, but I am more than open to _constructive criticism_ and valuable ideas._

_I'm saying this once only: This story is not for the faint of heart. There are some serious adult themes involved, namely SPOILERS!: substance use and abuse, strong language, scenes of a sexual nature (both explicit and implied), and character death. If you don't feel that you can stomach a story with these themes, please hit the back button and find a more appropriate story for your tastes._

_Also, I am looking for a beta for this and future stories. Take a look at my profile and drop me a line if you're interested._

_And finally, the disclaimer. **I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I am merely borrowing parts for the sake of fanfiction.**_

Perhaps black formal robes were not such a good idea, but the ceremony remained the same over the centuries. Graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat in their chairs on the stage overlooking the Black Lake, facing their loved ones on this most important of days. Said graduates wore matching black formal robes adorned with a either a red, yellow, blue, or green sash. The Head Boy and Girl wore a silver cord around their necks as well as they sat nearest the Headmistress' podium. The blazing sun would do nothing to stop such a revered tradition, but it certainly got many questioning the wiseness of wearing such a thing when the weather was so warm.

Hermione Granger, ecstatic as she was, could be included in that many. However, nothing could detract from her happiness as she received her diploma from the Headmistress. Her silver cord shone in the light as her eyes landed on the two boys – _men_ – sitting only a few metres away, her smile as wide as her face would allow. They cheered and hollered and waved, and generally made fools of themselves. Normally, such behaviour would have been embarrassing, but today was not a normal day. Today was the day where Hermione Granger graduated (with honours) from Hogwarts, and the day where her best friends did not.

It wasn't a surprise to the world when Hermione returned to Hogwarts after the war ended. Anyone who had ever met her knew that she took her education very seriously, even from an early age. It wasn't much of a surprise, either, when Ron Weasley didn't return to the castle. His attitude on schooling was almost the opposite of Hermione's, and after being offered a position on the Chudley Cannons, he decided that Hogwarts was behind him. The surprise was when Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Won, also decided not to return to his first true home. It was common knowledge around the Wizarding World that the famed warlock wanted to become an Auror, and a complete education was required for such a career. However, after several recommendations from very important people, he was granted early admission to the Auror Academy, provided he got the required NEWTs. He wore himself thin between his training and Hermione's tutoring, but he received full marks; only his tutor got better scores.

The ceremony passed in a blur for the usually attentive Head Girl. Several people gave speeches, but Hermione couldn't find herself to care what the Minister of Magic had to say, even if Kingsley was a friend. She registered when Headmistress McGonagall called her name in that same stern voice as when she was Sorted. The brunette rose and shook her mentor's hand as she was handed her diploma, and the elder woman gave her a rare smile. Later on, she would admit to not remembering much after that until Headmistress McGonagall's voice rang out to conclude the ceremony.

"...and so, I would like to formally introduce Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's graduating class of nineteen-hundred-ninety-nine." The roar of the crowd was deafening as the graduates tossed their caps in the air and rejoiced. The now former students rushed offstage to meet with their friends and relatives, and Hermione soon found herself in the arms of her two closest friends.

"Oh, Hermione, we missed you!" Ron said over the din, only to get a smack in the head. "Oi, what was that for?"

"You bolt, we met up two weeks ago in Hogsmeade! And if you had come back to school like anyone with half a brain, we never would have had to have been separated in the first place," Hermione said. "Oh, and no 'congratulations, Hermione, on being the only one with enough sense to graduate'?"

"Give him some credit, Mione. He took a mean Bludger to the head during his last training session. And just because some of us didn't graduate doesn't mean that we have half a brain. _Some_ of us got our NEWTs anyways," Harry said smugly as Ron rubbed his head. Hermione laughed.

"Don't give me that, Potter. I was your tutor. Where's Ginny? I haven't had the chance to talk to her yet." Three sets of eyes scanned the masses as the petite redhead in question snuck up on them from behind and gave the other girl a hug.

"Congrats, Hermione. Isn't this so exciting?" she said, literally bouncing with joy as she hugged her brother and kissed Harry.

"It is. Congratulations to you, too. Ron, don't you have something to say to your sister?" the muggle-born said with a sing-song voice. He blushed and congratulated her as the group of friends let out a long laugh. The four of them worked their way through the crowd in search of the other Weasleys, occasionally stopping to receive the well-wishes of people they, for the most part, didn't know. The moment the Weasley matriarch spotted them, she gave them bone-crushing hugs in her excitement.

"Oh, congratulations girls! I am so proud of the both of you! Hermione, I'm sure your parents would be, too, if they were here." Hermione nodded, her eyes watering at the thought of the parents she never rescued, living without a care in Australia. She wiped her tears from her eyes and grinned, acting as if it hadn't bothered her. "You're coming to dinner on Sunday. All of you." It wasn't a question.

"Oh, course, Mrs Weasley. Wouldn't miss it," Harry said. "Mr Weasley, happy to see you again." Everyone started their own conversations as they exited the grounds, and Molly began crying as the realization that her babies were all grown up hit her, and the eldest Weasleys departed, leaving only the three youngest redheads in addition to Harry and Hermione (George had insisted on needing a night out and decided to tag along).

"Well, are we just going to stand here or are you going to tell us where the party's at?"

* * *

><p>The party at the Three Broomsticks was fantastic. While Hermione didn't drink and Harry's strongest drink was butterbeer, the Weasleys got positively smashed. The Golden Trio left around two am when Ron finally blacked out. A difficult quarter-hour later, and Ron was finally away in his bed. Since the end of the war, the three friends lived together at 12 Grimmauld Place, though Hermione's room was vacant since she had quarters at the castle. In addition, she did nothing to hide her displeasure at the state of her drunken friend's bedroom.<p>

"How could it have gotten so messy?" she ranted in hushed tones as they made their way away from the bed. "As unhappy as I am with unpaid labour, doesn't Kreacher clean the bedrooms?"

"I may have told him to only clean Ron's room when he's away. It's easier that way, for everybody. But I didn't know it gets this bad. I've got to reward Kreacher soon," Harry said as he scratched his head. Hermione let out a squeak as she slipped on a small bottle, and Harry's Seeker reflexes allowed him to catch her in his arms before she fell.

Hermione couldn't help but to get lost in his eyes; it was always a personal weakness that she refused to regret. He wasn't as hard to get as many thought, but it took years of practice to get to the level where he was like a book for the reading. Yet, she had not a clue as to his feelings. As she was held in his arms, his gaze searching her, she felt more safe than anywhere else.

Harry loved having Hermione in his arms. It was his way of knowing she was safe, protected. But he was drawn to her eyes. The chocolate orbs were always so filled with emotion; figuring out how she was feeling was easy and yet extremely difficult at the same time, and he felt accomplished that he was the only one who could know her like that. There were traces of surprise in her eyes, but some other emotion – one that he never encountered before – overpowered it.

She bit her lip, a cute little habit she developed over the years, and Harry acted without a thought. He kissed her, and was surprised to find her react positively. She grabbed onto his shirt and he pulled her closer as they carefully backed against a wall – their embrace now a full-out snog. Harry had one hand in her hair, another on her hip while Hermione worked at the buttons on his shirt. A loud snore brought them back to reality.

They snogged.

In Ron's bedroom.

While Ron was asleep.

And Harry had a girlfriend.

Hermione sidestepped out of the way and backed towards the door, a blush high on her cheeks. She stammered something, but Harry missed it. He chased after her, but she was already in her room, so he just continued on to his bedroom.

Harry changed into his sleeping pants and thought about the situation. But the fact remained that _he_ kissed _her_. He cheated on Ginny, and he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He missed Hermione, and would never regret anything when it came to her. He heard her sobs and hated himself for being the cause of her tears. That was why he ended things in the first place, but he knew that he couldn't – wouldn't – be able to stay away forever. Then he thought of Ginny, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. While he wasn't sorry for his actions, he regretted what it would do to her.

_Fuck._

* * *

><p>Hermione couldn't sleep. Her mind was reeling over what happened. Harry kissed her. But now, he had a girlfriend.<p>

She sobbed. _He promised it would never happen again!_ She hated how she couldn't resist him. She hated how she felt for him. She hated how she would do anything, give everything, be anyone for him. But she didn't hate him. She never would. She only hated herself.

* * *

><p>Ron left early, despite his hangover, for practice. There was a game against Appleby in two days, and he wouldn't be returning until after then. He took his career very seriously, something that both relieved and troubled Hermione. Yes, she was thrilled that he was such a professional despite his attitude in Hogwarts, but that professionalism left her alone with Harry. She did her best to stay away from him, but she knew that it was pointless. She knew he'd find her sooner or later.<p>

"The library, Hermione? If you wanted to hide from me, you should have been less predictable," he said, leaning against the doorway as she sat in her favourite chair.

"Perhaps, or maybe it was the smartest option. If I wanted to hide, why not in a place that seemed so unpredictably predictable. Tell me, how many rooms did you search before this one?" she said, setting her book down to face him, a smirk on her face. He looked away and she knew she was right. "And I am not hiding-"

"Not anymore-"

"I was just...delaying the inevitable. I know you want to talk about last night," Hermione said knowingly. He scratched his neck and nodded.

"Hermione, about what happened-"

"You said it would never happen again!"

"I know what I said. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I'm not sorry for kissing you," Harry said. Hermione teared up but quickly wiped her eyes.

"I see no difference."

"The two are not mutually exclusive and you know it. Yes, it was wrong to kiss you because I'm involved with Ginny. But if it was so wrong, then why did you respond and not turn away?"

"Because I love you! Even now, while you love another, I love you with everything I am! It kills me everyday to know that you don't feel the same for me, but I love you too much to give a damn!" Harry grabbed her arm as she tried to flee and spun her to face him. "Let go, Harry!" He grabbed the back of her head with his free hand and kissed her with all he had. She melted into the kiss without question and grabbed him, trying to pull him closer. She pulled away for air and looked at him with nervous eyes.

"Don't ever, _ever_ think that I don't love you, because I do. I love you so much." He kissed her again, and she opened her mouth to him as she held him closer. Their tongues danced together as Harry's hands moved towards her covered breasts, kneading and massaging them just how he knew she liked. She moaned and trailed kisses down his neck, suckling that spot below his ear as she ground onto his growing arousal.

"Harry!" He picked her up and set her down on the chaise as he continued his ministrations. She pulled off his tee and raked her nails down his chest, eliciting a primal groan from the wizard. He made quick work of her top and bra, and kissed her breasts before taking a bud in his mouth, a move that always made her shout. She wiggled against his hardness, making both moan loudly. She unbuttoned and wiggled out of her jeans and panties, leaving her bare to his gaze for the first time in over a year.

"So beautiful," he whispered, sending goosebumps down her body. She tugged at his jeans and he shucked them off with his boxers, then slowed the pace, trying to drag it out as long as possible. Hermione would have none of that, and rubbed herself on his length, rolling her hips to gain some friction. She needed him right then, or she was sure she'd explode. He took the hint and hitched one of her legs on his hip and swiftly entered her. She clawed down his back in pleasure as he pistoned his hips; he bit her when she rolled her hips to meet him.

It didn't take long for either to reach their orgasm; celibacy took a toll on one's stamina. Hermione came first, silently screaming with her back arched like a cat. Harry followed not long after, crying her name while he gripped her hips so tightly she was sure she'd bruise. He pulled out and rested against her on the chaise, kissing her tenderly in their post-coital state.

"I love you," Hermione whispered as the two fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: So, I've been working on this story on and off again for over a year, but I've finally had enough and am hoping that finally posting it will give me the motivation to do it some good. I have big plans for this one, but I am more than open to _constructive criticism_ and valuable ideas._

_This story is not for the faint of heart. There are some serious adult themes involved, namely SPOILERS!: substance use and abuse, strong language, scenes of a sexual nature (both explicit and implied), and character death. If you don't feel that you can stomach a story with these themes, please hit the back button and find a more appropriate story for your tastes._

_Also, I am looking for a beta for this and future stories. Take a look at my profile and drop me a line if you're interested._

_**And finally, the disclaimer. ****I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I am merely borrowing parts for the sake of fanfiction.**_

Routine led the lives of the Golden Trio. By the time they were thirteen, they knew that every year at school would be a crazy one, and they took comfort in the predictability that something would go horribly wrong. But now, the routine was much more pleasant. Every Sunday, they had dinner at the Burrow with the Weasleys. Twice a week, Harry and Ginny went out on dates. Ron would be gone every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday for practice and games (exhibition matches; the season didn't start until mid-September). Harry had Academy five days a week. Once a week, Harry picked up Teddy for some quality time with the one-year-old. Any time else that Harry was unspoken for, he was Hermione's. That's how the routine was for the past month, and it seemed to be working. Not a soul suspected that Harry and Hermione were together in secret.

"Happy birthday, Harry." Hermione put his breakfast on the desk and slipped under the covers beside him. He pulled her close and kissed her neck, drinking in her scent. He trailed kissed up her neck, capturing her lips with his own as he rolled onto her. With a surprising show of power, Hermione flipped them over so she was on top. Unsurprisingly, she already felt him against her leg. She pulled his pants down, not bothering to even get them off, and sank onto him with a loud moan. She rode him, bouncing and rolling her hips, moaning and crying out while she wore only an old tee.

Harry moaned and looked up at the beauty on him. Her hair was disheveled, her cheeks had a rosy glow, and her eyes were glazed over with pleasure. Then he saw what she was wearing – his old Quidditch shirt – and felt an animalistic sense of pride wash over him. He grabbed her hips and flipped them over so she was laying down on his bed and fucked her with renewed vigor. Hermione came – twice – minutes later with silent screams and she clawed his back. She continued to roll her hips, urging his climax. With a strangled cry, he emptied himself in her and rolled onto his back. "Happy birthday is right."

"That was...wow. I love you."

"I love you, too. Do I smell pancakes?" They laughed and went to the desk to grab his food. Hermione gasped. "What?"

"Your back! It's bleeding!" Hermione cried. "Where's my wand? I'll fix you right up." Harry checked a mirror and shook his head.

"Leave them. They're love marks. Now who wants some breakfast?"

* * *

><p>When they finally made it down to the kitchen, there was an envelope on the table, addressed to him. He opened it and saw two tickets to today's game, an exhibition match, Puddlemere at Chudley. Hermione came behind him and peered over his shoulder.<p>

"Today's tickets?" she asked. "Who's Ron playing?"

"Puddlemere. Look at these seats, they're even better than usual. Minister's Box." Hermione could hear the excitement in his voice and couldn't deny him. She had grown fond of the wizarding sport over the years, and while she still couldn't stand to hear constant Quidditch talk, she understood and respected the game enough to even have a favorite team (also Puddlemere). So she was also a little excited. Harry glanced at his watch and saw it was nearing eleven. "The game starts at two, so we need to leave by one. You wanna start getting ready now?" he teased. She kissed him and ran upstairs to shower and get ready.

Harry sat at the table and read the paper, looking to see what nonsense was being written today. Of course, there were numerous articles about him, detailing everything from his childhood to his love life to who he would be rooting for in the match. It used to get on his nerves having his life documented so publicly, but now he found it funny how off-base they still were. Kreacher started making lunch at noon, and he finished just as Hermione was making her way down the steps. She always looked fantastic to Harry, but he knew that people would _really_ be all over her today. Her hair was still curled, but some of it was pinned back. Her dress – a simple purple sundress – reached her knees, and she had a white jumper over it. She sat beside him and kissed his cheek. Sure, the elf was aware of their affair (and was forbidden to in any way mention or allude to it when others were present), but she was still uneasy.

Kreacher served soup and sandwiches and was thanked before he scurried away to finish his cleaning. They ate in silence and decided on a quick snog before leaving for the game.

* * *

><p>Spirits were high when they got home. After Harry got over having the stadium sing "Happy Birthday" to him, he had a really good time. Hermione was really into the match and it thrilled him to see her so passionate about something he loved. Ron was upset at the loss but sucked it up for his friend's birthday. They went to Fortescue's and got some ice cream like they did after every match. Kreacher was just finishing up dinner when the Trio walked through the door, and they immediately sat down and ate. The elf even pulled out a fine wine so they could drink to his master's health.<p>

After dessert, they hung out in the sitting room, Hermione reading a book and the guys recapped the game – again. She was there, she didn't need to hear a play-by-play three times. For a few hours they relaxed like that, just like how they would in their "glory days". But after two more hours of Quidditch talk, Hermione couldn't handle another word of it. She put her book away and bid the boys goodnight before slipping away to her room.

Maybe thirty minutes later, Harry found himself sneaking into Hermione's bedroom where she was already waiting for him. After a round – or three – of lovemaking, they lay on her bed, wound in each others arms.

"I'm lucky," Hermione said. "So lucky to have fallen in love with my best friend. Growing up, I was teased so mercilessly that I honestly doubted ever finding a boy who would honestly admit to thinking I was even cute." Harry poked at the tip of her nose and smiled.

"You are more than cute. You are beautiful, courageous, adorable, intelligent, and _sexy_." To prove his point, he ground his hips against hers, and she let out a small moan. Hermione snuggled closer, encouraged by his behavior.

"Oh really? Is that all I am to you? Some bookish little sex kitten?" she teased.

"Merlin no. It's just a perk," he said with cheek before kissing her again.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Harry woke up to an empty bed. Not unusual, as they would return to their own bedrooms in order to protect their secret. However, Harry found himself alone in Hermione's room, and the clock read that it was nearly ten in the morning. He jumped out of bed and scrambled for his clothes, not bothering to question why his pants were underneath the bed, and checked the hallway for activity. Once cleared, Harry ran to his bedroom and got himself ready for the day.<p>

Downstairs, Harry found Ron and Hermione already eating the breakfast Kreacher prepared, with Ron taking his typical enormous serving and chowing down as if there were no tomorrow. Harry silently made himself a plate and sat at the table, taking a look of _The Daily Prophet_ to see what misreported news made the morning headlines. Seeing that there was nothing of importance to him, he folded the newsrag into hats and placed one on his head. Ron dropped his fork and gaped, alerting Hermione to what was going on.

"Er, Harry, did you take any potions this morning?" she asked. He smiled.

"Oh, no. I just thought that there had to be some use for this rubbish. And look! It does make for a decent hat. Would you like one?" Unable to keep a straight face any longer, Harry burst into hysterical laughter, which caused the other two to also join in. Kreacher came downstairs to find his Master and his companions parading through the kitchen, wearing folded up newspaper and laughing themselves hoarse before immediately turning around to resume his cleaning, muttering about long-awaited mental breakdowns the whole way.

At noon, the fireplace erupted as Ginny emerged from the Floo and dusted herself off. Hermione was in the sitting room reading, so she was immediately aware and greeted her dusty ginger friend.

"Oh, Hermione, how are you doing? Is Harry around? I thought I'd take him to lunch before the party." Hermione pulled out her wand and finished cleaning Ginny off as the girl rambled. While Hermione had much practice reining in her emotions, especially when Harry was concerned, she still had to resist rolling her eyes. As good a friend as Ginny was, she still acted like a lovestruck 12 year-old at the thought of her boyfriend.

"Yeah, he's just in the library. I'll – get him," she said, letting the end fall on deaf ears as the red-head ran up the stairs, blowing off her friend. Hermione sighed and sat back down, quickly getting back into her book. About ten minutes later, Ginny came back downstairs, seemingly dragging Harry along with her.

"Hermione, we're going out for a bit. Meet you at the Burrow in a few hours?" he asked. Hermione gave a quick nod in acknowledgment and the door slammed shut. Ron came down about an hour later for some food, and shockingly left Hermione some crisps on his way back to his room. By two pm, she finished her reading and decided to head out.

"Ron! I'm leaving for the Burrow! Remember to be there by three!" she called up the staircase. No answer. "Ron? Did you hear me?" Still no answer. Hermione huffed as she stomped up the steps to his room. "Honestly, Ronald. Is it that hard to just – OH DEAR GOD!" she screamed as the opened his door. She shielded her eyes and turned around, listening to the undeniable rustle and shrieks of people having been caught in a..._compromising _position.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!"

"Sorry! I'm so so sorry! But you should have locked the door!"

"Ron, it's quite alright. I'm sure that this isn't the first time Hermione saw you almost naked." Hermione, still covering her eyes, turned around sharply at the voice.

"Luna?" Suddenly, Hermione was being hugged by the bubbly girl and, because her eyes were still tightly closed, lost her balance and nearly fell.

"Hermione, you _can_ open your eyes. We're both decent." _'Only Luna could be so nonchalant at a time like this,'_ Hermione thought as she allowed herself to see. Ron was blushing furiously, putting on his shirt, and Luna was as bouncy as ever, already completely clothed.

"I was just coming up to tell you I decided to go to the Burrow now, and to remind you that you had to be there by three. Obviously I interrupted something, and now I'm completely embarrassed-"

"You're one to talk!"

"-So I think I'll just be going now. Well, it was...nice to see you again, Luna." With that, Hermione bolted. Deciding to take a walk to clear her head, she walked about London for a bit before finding an alley and Disapparating.

The Burrow was already bustling in preparation for the party. Molly was in the kitchen, and you didn't need to be a Seer to know that she had been cooking all morning. George and Fleur were putting up decorations while Bill, Charlie, and Mr Weasley were outside setting up the canopy. Deciding to make herself useful, Hermione donned an apron and waltzed into Molly's domain.

"Oh, Hermione, you're here early! Be a dear and take the pie out of the oven, would you?" Hermione smiled and began tinkering away with the food, grateful for the distraction. "It's just been so busy today, I'm glad for the extra hands. How was your day so far?" Hermione almost choked, glad that the Weasley matriarch was not looking at her right then. Her blush was on par with Ron's.

"It was pretty unbelievable."

* * *

><p>The party was still going late into the night. While most guests had left, a small group remained. George had brought out the heavy artillery after his parents went off to bed, and now the remaining partiers were at varying levels of intoxication. Poor Neville was already out, snoring softly into his piece of cake. Luna and Dean were quite tipsy, and Seamus was going drink for drink with Charlie. Harry and George were singing some muggle rock song way off-key. Hermione decided to indulge and was feeling floaty, quite enjoying mindlessly gabbing with Lavender and Ginny.<p>

"You know, I was thinking about getting back together with Ron," Lavender said. Ginny forced a smile at the idea, but Hermione had a difficult time restraining her thoughts on the matter.

"I don't think that you'll get very far with that." Ginny looked at Hermione with a questioning glance, and Lavender got defensive. "I'm just saying, I think he already has someone. I may or may not have caught him in a compromising position earlier. That was more of Ron than I needed to see, no offense. Now if you'll excuse me, my father was a massive The Who fan, and it would dishonor his memory to continue to allow those boys to butcher their music." Hermione waltzed off, leaving the girls to chatter about who may have caught Ron's eye.

"Hermione! Did you know that there are Muggles that sing about magic?" George said, draping an arm over her shoulder so he didn't topple over. Hermione glared at Harry.

"You let him listen to _Pinball Wizard_?"

"Hey, he found it! I didn't even know Mr Weasley had a copy of that album. It kinda makes sense now, though," he shrugged, running a hand through is always messy hair. She rolled her eyes and helped George into a chair before getting another drink.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Harry found himself face-down on the sitting room floor back at Grimmauld Place with no idea how he got there. With a hangover unlike any other, he carefully stood up and made his way to the nearest bathroom. A few minutes later, there was an exceptionally loud banging at the door.<p>

"Oh dear Merlin," he huffed. "Ocupado!" Before he knew it, he was pushed aside and the unmistakable sounds of vomiting could be heard. Rubbing his eyes, he saw Hermione clinging to the toilet bowl, heaving up whatever it was she had the night before. Being polite, he tied her hair out of the way and rubbed her back until she was finished. "Better?"

"A bit. Would you mind having Kreacher bringing up some Hangover Potion? The sound of my heartbeat is hurting my ears," she asked, covering her eyes from the dim light. He chuckled at her before summoning the elf and giving her the sickly green potion.

"You were sooo wasted," Harry teased. "I've never seen you so hungover!"

"Says the guy who got so pissed that he thought that the Keebler elves were being massacred giant man-eating otters. '_Guys, the otters are attacking the Keebler elves! We need to go to Hogwarts and save them! We can't let them die, their cookies are delicious!_' The funniest part was Ron asking where the Keeblers lived. He thought they were house elves!" Hermione couldn't contain her laughter any longer, and fell into Harry, who also found it hilarious.

"Speaking of Ron, where is he?" he asked.

"Luna's?"


End file.
